Disclaimer: All characters and themes that you recognize do not belong to me. Elliot and Olivia belong to Dick Wolf and NBC. It's their party, I was just invited. Actually, I snuck in.

A/N: First part of a series of one-shots revolving around Elliot, Olivia, and their son. Yes, Benson and Stabler are happily married. Yay! Please see author's note at the end for more info.

Part One: Covert

Olivia closed the picture book she'd just finished reading, and set it down on the bedside table in her son's bedroom. For the umpteenth time that night, her eyes settled on the Scooby-Doo clock on the wall, and like every time previously, a cold dread slithered down her neck. Elliot was supposed to be home three and a half hours ago.

"Can we read more?" Max asked, already half out of his bed, eyes glued on the bookshelf across the room. While Olivia was glad her son had taken a liking to literature, she knew the three year old needed his sleep above all else. Nothing was more tiring than trying to get a cranky child to the babysitters in the morning.

Snapping back to the present, she reached out for him, and from her reclined position beside him on his bed, wrapped an arm around his waist. "Not tonight, honey. You need to sleep, otherwise you'll be too tired to go to Michelle's tomorrow."

"No, I won't," He insisted, smiling deviously at his mother. Olivia had noticed that the past couple of weeks Max had become more and more contradictory. Maybe it just came with age. Maybe it came with his improved will to be independent.

Or maybe he was becoming more and more like his father. The same father that had not been home since two days ago. And was supposed to have been home for dinner.

Olivia pulled herself out of Max's bed, because she knew that if she cuddled with him tonight that she would most likely fall asleep with him. And tonight, she wanted to stay awake and wait for Elliot. Because he rarely did this to her. At the very least, he always, always called her.

"Sweet dreams, honey."

"Night, Momma."

She pressed her lips gently to his forehead and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay." Max yawned.

Olivia tucked to covers up to his chin, and flipped on the nightlight that rested in the outlet next to his bed. Turning off the overhead light, she made to close the door half way.

"Momma?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Daddy coming home soon?"

Olivia sighed, and rested her hand lightly on the doorjamb. "I don't know, sweetie." At the disappointed look on her child's face, Olivia continued, "But I'll tell him to come say good night when he does."

Max turned and snuggled peacefully onto his side. "Okay."

Olivia winked at him and pulled the door almost shut behind her.

As she exited the hallway, she walked directly over to the phone, which was hanging in its cradle in the kitchen. Olivia dialled the number that she knew by heart. The number she knew she could never forger even if she tried.

Three rings. Four. Five. Olivia impatiently drummed her fingers on the countertop, while she silently urged someone, anyone, to pick up.

"Detective Munch."

"John, hey," Olivia spoke softly, so she wouldn't disturb her son in the next room over.

"Liv! Long time no see…what's up?"

"Um, very little, actually. Look, is Elliot there?"

"What, you don't want to converse with an old friend?"

Olivia sighed and rolled her eyes. Although Munch was, indeed, a close and special friend, but she was getting more and more worried about Elliot's absence. Even if he was hung up on a case, and wasn't coming home, she just wanted to know if he was okay.

"He headed out about…say, three hours ago. I thought he was heading home."

"Okay." She exhaled harshly. "Okay, John, do you have any idea where he went?"

"Sorry, Liv. I've been working something for eighteen hours straight. I haven't been as…astute as my usual self."

Olivia had to chuckle at that. "Okay. Thanks. Would you get him to call me if he comes in?"

"Sure thing."

Once the connection was cut, she went and sat on the couch. She wasn't sure how successful she'd be in that activity, since she'd been restless since dinnertime when he hadn't come home. She'd busied herself with calling his phone, calling Cragen, calling some of his friends. All attempts at communication came up short. At the time, it was just an uncomfortable sensation of weariness. He was, after all, a cop. Now, however, the fear had kicked up a notch. The what-ifs were threatening to swallow her whole. What if he'd been mugged? What if he was lying in an alley somewhere, unable to call for help? Oh, no. No. Please, let him be okay.

Now, her gaze was a constant alternate shift between the clock and the door. The clock and the door. The clock and the door. Every breath she took in was getting more and more shaky. Dread climbed up her throat, and menaced to close it off, preventing her breathing and her voice.

Elliot was always the responsible father. He never worried her like this. Since the day they had gotten married, he'd made sure to call, to talk to her, to let her know that he was okay. Exactly for this reason. So she wouldn't assume the worst and let panic overcome her mind, body, and soul. He made sure to tell her his whereabouts for her sake, and for the sake of their three-year-old son.

Olivia rose from her seat, too worked up to sit still any longer. She needed to know he was okay. She needed to know now. Maybe he'd just gone to interview someone out of town…but at this time of night, it didn't make sense. Nothing made sense, especially not with the impending feeling of doom creeping down her spine.

XO

Fifty-two minutes later, as she paced around the living room in her pyjamas, she heard the key slide into the lock.

She dashed to the door and threw her arms tightly around him the moment he passed the threshold. "Elliot! Thank God!" She buried her face in his neck, wanting to inhale his scent.

Instead, as he tried to push past her, she was greeted by the unearthly stench of alcohol. She stepped back, confused. "El?"

He didn't answer, just walked down the hall, right past her, straight to Max's room.

"Elliot, what's going on?"

She deftly followed him into their son's bedroom. She was met with the sight of Elliot sitting on Max's bed, right beside his head, just staring at him. His hand lightly combed through the sleeping boy's hair.

"Honey, what is it?"

She walked forward, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Even though she was bubbling with anger, she was more concerned for his well-being.

Elliot said nothing, just kept his eyes trained on their son.

Olivia grew more and more nervous. He had been missing for four hours. He had come home drunk, late at night. He wasn't talking to her. She needed answers, and now.

Her hand slipped from his shoulder, and moved to instead cup his elbow. She tugged, trying to get his heavy form out of the room. "Come on, Elliot. We have to talk about this."

He came with her, though reluctantly, into the bedroom. Olivia stood by the foot of the bed, her arms crossed. She glared at him, holding his intoxicated gaze, daring him to look away. "Are you planning to tell me where the hell you've been?"

"S'nothin."

"Oh, no. No way. You've been missing for hours, Elliot!"

"Ssshhh. S'fine, Livia. Go to bed."

She threw her arms in the air, exasperated. She thought he was hurt! She thought he had been abducted…she'd been terrified! And what, he'd gone and gotten smashed? She had every right to be angry. Every right to demand an explanation.

"Elliot – what's going on with you!"

His expression darkened, his cold glare was directed at the floor. "I said it's nothing."

"Don't you dare try to get out of this! I've been worried sick! For God sakes, Elliot, your son was worried about you!"

"Yeah? And I'm home now, aren't I?"

Olivia couldn't believe her ears. She stepped forward, and placed a cautious hand on his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly. "Please," She said, catching his gaze and holding it, searching his face for clues. "Please tell me what's happened."

He cringed away from her, and shed his jacket roughly. She bit her lip to keep herself from yelling. To keep herself from blowing up.

Elliot stripped down to his boxers and left his clothes lying on the floor. She made a mental note to yell at him tomorrow for his laziness. To yell at him right when he had a headache from his drinking. She knew she really didn't want to purposely irritate him, but right then she was just so angry. He'd scared her out of her wits, and he just expected her to…let it go?

She marched over to the bed, where he had just plopped down, unceremoniously, and was now covering his face in his hands.

"Elliot, I can't believe you! You disappear for hours on end, and you expect me to just…to just…forget it?"

He heavily took one of her hands in both of his, as his eyes closed and she could tell he was falling asleep.

"Babes, just come to bed."

"Elliot…!" Her protest was short-lived, however, because she could see in the expression on his face that he was slipping quickly into unconsciousness. She released his hand and glared.

Jesus.

She was so angry.

He'd have a hell of a lot of explaining to do in the morning.

XO

She was aware of the moment he woke up. She knew exactly when he'd regained consciousness, because he welcomed the world with a loud, ungraceful groan. His hands came up to cover his face, trying to block out the light that was streaming though the open blinds. She was still indeed very bitter about his disappearing acts and lack of so-called explanation.

So she lay, slightly inclined, because her upper back was leaning against the headboard. As she waited for him to become lucid, she listened to the sounds of her household. She listened for the noises the fridge made, she listened for the sound of little feet pit-pattering along the hallway, Max checking to see if Daddy had come home. She didn't hear her son, though, and she was glad that she could speak to her husband about this without worrying about being overheard.

"Uhhh…Livia?"

"Glad you finally came round."

"Don't be like that, honey – ."

"Well, come on, El, what the hell d'you expect? You…disappeared on me. You didn't even call…"

"And I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean for you to get worried."

"How could I not, Elliot? You didn't tell me where you were, and when you got home, you didn't even talk to me!"

"I don't remember that…"

"Well, of course you don't. You were shit-faced when you walked through that door."

He shifted closer, snaked an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. "Livia, God, I'm sorry. It was…it was…"

"What is it, El?"

"It was…such an awful case…I just, I…"

She placed a hand on his chest. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"

"You don't get it…It was…the worst…"

"Bad enough that you couldn't tell your wife?"

"I didn't want you…to think about it. To have that stuck in your head, too."

"Elliot, I've been in the same boat you have. I've worked in that unit, too. I understand."

"No, Liv. No…you…the…the boy's name…Oh, Liv!" He turned into her, hiding his face in her hair. She instinctively brought her arms up to cradle his body.

"Ssshhh. Please, El, tell me."

"The boy's name was Max…he was four years old."

She closed her eyes, shut them tight, and steadied her hold on him. She rubbed up and down his back, soothingly, trying to calm him. She understood why he had wanted to get drunk, to forget it, to erase the thoughts of that little boy that melded with the thoughts of his own son…

"Why didn't you just call me, El? You know I would've understood."

"I…I honestly forgot…baby I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't want you to be upset. And then I came home…and all I could picture was our son, and you were angry, and I just…I was confused and I just wanted to sleep…to stop for a bit."

Olivia finally understood the reasons that he shut her out. He was instinctively, even in his intoxicated state of mind, trying to protect his family from the horrors he saw every day. He had wanted to stay away from home, at least until he could calm himself down, but then he'd gotten drunk and since she'd always been his safe harbour…he'd made his way home, into the apartment, into their bed, and after his explanation, that was all that mattered anymore. That he'd found the courage to come home to her even in his fear, his vulnerability.

"It's okay, Elliot. I forgive you."

"Olivia…" He whispered, and leaned down until his lips met with hers. She raised her arms to loop lazily around his head. She'd missed him that last few days, when he had been working that young boy…Max's…case so hard. She's missed his comforting weight in the bed next to her, missed setting the table for three, and missed the late-night television. Most of all, she missed this. Being with him, in his arms.

The kiss quickly got more intense, and Olivia knew instantly that he'd missed her just as much as she'd missed him. That he craved her to the same degree. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and shifted to that his upper torso was flush against hers. When he gasped at the contact, he took the opportunity to slide he tongue into her mouth. They began a dance, each fighting to dominate the kiss, but not wanting the control too immensely. Olivia was fine with letting him lead…she hadn't gotten much sleep last night anyways.

Elliot ran his right hand down her side, and smoothly grasped her thigh in his hand. He brought it up so that it bent at the knee, forming an inviting cradle for his muscled body.

"Mmmm…I missed you…" She moaned, breaking the kiss so that she could breathe. He wasted no time, expertly taking care of her shirt, which ended up on the floor as he discarded it from her warm body.

"I missed you too," He agreed, planting small kisses down the side of her neck, sucking gently on her pulse point, and eliciting a sharp gasp from his wife. "More than you can know, baby."

"Please…" She was out of breath, "Please don't ever do that to me again."

"I promise…it won't happen. You'll never have to worry."

"Elliot, I- ."

"Sssshhh. Relax. You're so tense…"

"El…"

"What is it?"

"Just…I love you." As she said this, she rolled them over so that she was straddling his waist, her hand planted firmly on his shoulders. He paused, took the time to look her over, and smiled.

"I love you too, beautiful."

"Hmmmm."

Elliot put his hands on her hips, and held her in place as he rotated his hips under her. Again, to his satisfaction, he received a sound of appreciation from his wife. Olivia smiled at him from under hooded lids, and leaned down to fuse their lips together again. She thrust her tongue into his mouth unexpectedly, and he moaned at the pleasant surprise. His hands slid from her waist up her back, soothingly kneading the muscles of her shoulder blades.

Olivia was writhing against him, desperate for contact. She had missed him so much…was so happy that he'd trusted her, in the end, and she was glad to be back where she belonged, glad to have him back where he belonged…She sighed in content when his hands came around to cup her breasts. Elliot smiled up at her.

It was perfect. Finally. It was perfect.

"Momma?"

A small voice, at the open door to their bedroom. She froze instantly, and opened her eyes, to see Elliot staring back at her with wide eyes.

Max.

Shit.

A/N: This is intended to be a series of one-shots concerning the "New" Stabler family, but I can make some two-shots as well. Any ideas for one-shots about the life of Elliot, Olivia, and their child? Let me know in a review and I'll see what I can do!

Please comment…I'd really appreciate it!